


White Dreams

by mssdare



Series: Summer Pornathon 2015 (my entries) [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Future, Future Fic, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Summer Pornathon 2015, Tropes, Unhappy Ending, Xeno, challenge 3: tropesmash, dream - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssdare/pseuds/mssdare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin dreams.<br/>He knows he’s dreaming because Arthur’s here, lying next to Merlin on the grass, propped on his elbow, blond fringe falling into his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for week 3 of Summer Pornathon 2015, challenge TROPESMASH.  
> Setting: the future, Trope: Mistaken Identity, Kink: Xeno
> 
> ALL THE LOVE TO SILLYGOOSE. I couldn't ask for a better beta <3

Merlin dreams.

He knows he’s dreaming because Arthur’s here, lying next to Merlin on the grass, propped on his elbow, blond fringe falling into his eyes. Merlin wants to reach out and brush the locks away, but he’s afraid to stir and lose the dream.

Arthur smiles at Merlin and then leans over; his rough hand cups Merlin’s cheek and brings them closer. Their lips almost touch. Arthur’s breath is warm on Merlin’s skin, redolent of pine trees and horses, as if he’s just returned from a patrol in the forest. And Merlin _prays_.

He hasn’t prayed in years, eons really, but now he does, wishing for the dream to linger on.

“Open your eyes, Merlin,” Arthur says, and Merlin does so reluctantly, because all this is going to vanish as soon as his lids open. He’ll be in the cave again, where he’s been since he could no longer walk the earth, too tired from waiting nearly two thousand years for Arthur to return.

“Aren’t you a lazy princess,” Arthur says.

“I was asleep,” Merlin says. He isn’t sure he’s awake now.

“And not the sharpest tool in the shed either.” Arthur laughs, throwing his head back. He looks so carefree, so young, like when they first met. Or maybe not. Maybe like when they drank from the chalice.

Around them trees hum in the warm wind. The grass underneath their bodies is thick and soft. Arthur’s hand snakes down, and his fingers caress the strip of Merlin’s skin visible between breeches and tunic. Merlin sucks in his breath. This is not something they should pursue. But Arthur’s hand dips lower, underneath the fabric, and soon it’s covering Merlin’s cock—hard and stirring now.

When Arthur leans over Merlin, rubbing their hard cocks together, Merlin squirms. Arthur’s muscular body smells sweet, burns hot, and Merlin’s never wanted anything as much as he wants this: Arthur’s lips on his, Arthur’s hands clasped tight around his wrists as he grinds against Merlin.

“Take this off,” Arthur orders regally, expecting to be obeyed. He bends Merlin’s naked legs, pushing them up and up until Merlin’s almost curled in a ball.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asks, but all sound is lost when Arthur’s tongue—wet, hot, insistent—laps over Merlin’s hole. And once Merlin’s _dripping_ , Arthur lines up his cock and thrusts in, once, twice, and again. Merlin whines, writhes, and almost sobs, begging the gods until they’re both spilling—Arthur pulsing deep into Merlin’s hole and Merlin hot and milky between them.

Arthur’s kisses Merlin, squeezes his arm. “I love you,” he says, his lips brushing the delicate skin behind Merlin’s ear.

There’s something in the way he says it, something in the way the trees sway, something in the way Arthur’s eyes gleam with white light when Merlin pulls back that makes Merlin doubt.

He gasps. “Who are you?”

“I’m Arthur.”

But Merlin knows better.

“No,” he says. “No. You’re not him. What magic is this?” He jerks back. He stumbles over the pile of discarded clothes, legs getting tangled in the shirts as he tries to back away.

Arthur’s face is perfectly still, beautiful when he smiles, beautiful when he looks confused, like he does now. He reaches out.

“Don’t touch me!” Merlin shouts. He screams until his throat is raw, and all around him the vision of the forest and grass fades, leaving only pure white. This time he prays to wake up.

A voice booms out of the white mist. “We’re sorry,” it intones. “We assumed. Is this not what you craved?”

Merlin looks down where his tears fall one by one, drops bouncing off the swirling white. “Where am I? Who are you?” He must be dreaming. He’s always dreaming these days.

“We’re… new. Your kind doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve been asleep for over ten thousand years. Our probe detected you among the crystals in the mountains. We saw Arthur in your dreams and created him for you. Does it not make you happy?”

Merlin is going insane. He’s been dreaming too long. He clutches his head, tearing at his hair. _This_ cannot be. He remembers being tired, so tired, and falling asleep, but if this is reality he wishes he’d never woken up. He starts running, but all around there’s only white.

He stops when a cliff materializes in front of him. Black ocean roars beneath his feet. He closes his eyes and takes a step forward.

He doesn’t wake up.

Merlin dreams.


End file.
